Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 I can always be reached with comments, praise, or general conversation at
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   Chapter 1

   Sancia felt a dull panic build in her stomach as she stared down at the
paper in front of her, the figures on it starting to swim slightly.  She
should know this, she should know how to do all of this, but her mind felt
utterly blank.  Hesitantly the fifteen year old girl dragged her pencil to
the first question, and tried desperately to remember where to begin on
this sort of problem.  With the base of the triangle?  One of the angles?
She began to scribble down rough lines, bits and pieces coming back to her,
as she tried to ignore the ticking of the large wall clock, audible even
over the scratching of pencils in the otherwise silent classroom.  Mr. 
Stevenson patrolled up and down between their cheap plastic desks slowly,
glancing from paper to paper, eyes sharp for any signs of cheating.  She
lowered her head as he passed, hyperaware of how much time she had left.

   With only two problems left to solve she was snapped out of focus by the
shrill ringing bell, swearing under her breath as she scrambled to write
down something, anything, for the remaining questions, shoving her long
black hair out of her eyes and back over her shoulder.  Someone bumped into
her desk as the other students all tried to squeeze up to the front to drop
their papers down, and she bit back a yelp of irritation, scrawling down a
few numbers and then hastily signing her name at the top of the sheet.  She
squeezed herself into the line, heart thudding, swearing softly to herself.
No fucking way she hadn't bombed that.

   She dropped the sheet down and then swung back around to her desk, the
classroom now half empty.  She slung her backpack off the back of her seat
and shoved the textbook inside, zipping it shut with more force then
necessary, and half stalking out of the classroom.  She spent the bus-ride
home staring out the window and trying not to think about what her parents
were going to say at the next round of conferences, when they saw where her
math grade (really all of her grades, a nasty thought said, she pushed it
away) were doing this semester.  Everything seemed so much harder than
freshman year!  She huddled in her seat near the back, backpack pulled to
her chest to help hide her breasts, larger than any other girl in her class
by quite a margin and a target of ridicule whenever a few of the popular
girls felt particularly nasty.

   It wasn't until she lay sprawled in her bed, staring up at the ceiling,
sinking back into the soft mattress and kicking her legs absentmindedly
over the edge, that she bothered to pull her backpack open again.  And
discovered her sketchbook was missing.

   She sat bolt upright, a real knife of terror lancing through her belly.
She dug through everything in the bag again, just to be sure, and then
dumped it out on the bedspread, just to be really sure.  She practically
threw her books aside as she confirmed her first fears; the big, black
covered sketchbook she carried everywhere and guarded with her life, was
missing.  Sancia began to hyperventilate softly as she tried to remember if
she could have possibly left it anywhere...in the bathroom, in one of her
classrooms, somewhere here in the house, but she vividly remembered having
it all through the day.  Right up until math class at the very end.

   With a groan she realized someone must have snatched it from her bag at
the end of class, when she was away from her desk and no-one was looking.
They hadn't stolen her bag though, just the sketchbook, and she realized
whoever had it knew what they wanted.  Her terror began to mix with anger
as she thought about who might have taken it.  Stacey.  Abigail.  Tahiya.
Any one of them would have loved to snatch her most valued possession and
dangle it over her.  But what would they do when they saw the contents? 
With a thick sensation of dread she thought through the options.  Tell an
adult?  Tell a teacher?  Tell everyone at school?  Without realizing it she
whimpered audibly, her life was over.  They'd lock her up in an asylum,
they'd call her crazy, her parents would pretend they never knew her.  She
began to shake uncontrollably, before gulping down air and forcing herself
to calm down slightly.

   Maybe...maybe someone else had it.  Maybe Darryl had it.  Maybe he'd see
it and he'd understand.  Or one of his friends.  Jake liked to stare at her
sometimes.  She tried to cling to some slight hope, rolling over on her
belly and grabbing her laptop from the floor.  Facebook seemed quiet. 
No-one posted anything mocking her, no-one private messages.  She pulled up
Tumblr instead and began to browse her feed, smiling at some of the artwork
people half a world away had posted in that day alone.  Slowly she began to
relax.

   Her phone buzzed.  Instantly her panic returned.  No-one ever texted her
except for Nancy, and she had a horrible feeling it wasn't Nancy.  It was
an unknown number.  She tapped the message open.  And there it was, a
snapshot of one of her pages.  Without even enlarging the image she knew
exactly which one it was, which of her crude drawings they'd taken a
picture of.  A girl, clearly Sancia herself, hanging naked from a rope
around her fat tits, tears running down her face and her legs splayed wide
and cuffed to the floor.  She threw the phone away, it bounced against her
pillow and she clutched her legs to her chest.  Fuck.  Fuck fuck.

   The phone buzzed again.  She rolled over on her side, pressing her hands
to her ears, trying to ignore it, but she couldn't avoid the vibration as
it purred a third time and she grabbed it again, looking in horror.  They'd
sent her that drawing where she was skewered between two cocks, in her
mouth and pussy, while clamps and chains dragged her tits down to the
floor. And the one where she was strung up vertically, pulled taught
between an invisible floor and ceiling, with red bullwhip marks across
every inch of her flesh, and a fat ball gag in between her lips.

   "Stop it!" she frantically texted back "give it back its mine stop it!".
Her phone was silent, her eyes glued to the screen, as the word "no"
bounced up.  She didn't even realize tears were running down her cheeks as
she replied "what do you want?  Please give it back.  I'll do anything just
don't tell anyone".  There was no response for minutes, until she was just
about to give up and toss her phone away again, before finally their final
words for the evening popped up: "Behind the auditorium.  After school
tomorrow."

   She set her phone down and rolled her legs off the bed, staring down at
the carpet, her heart thudding so loudly she could feel her ribs.  She had
to do it.  She had to see who it was.  They could do anything with those
pictures.  They could ruin her life.  She let out a soft whimper
again...they could make her do whatever they wanted.  A small voice in the
back of her head whispered hopefully "yes...they could".  "No!" she cried
out, standing up in agitation, but the seed of the thought was there now,
and she couldn't drive it away.  Her mother's voice echoed up from
downstairs "Sancia!  Dinner's ready!".

   Dinner was awkward.  Sancia sat there, barely able to focus, pushing
spaghetti around her plate.  Her father complained about a bad day at work.
Her older sister couldn't keep her eyes off her phone, and her mother
couldn't stop chiding her to put the horrible thing away and join the
family.  Sancia herself had barely any appetite, and felt like she had to
force every bite down, each one hitting the pit in her stomach uselessly.
She kept seeing those messages in her mind's eye, the stuff they'd found,
and she found herself squirming in her seat.

   "Are you alright honey?".  Her mother's voice was concerned.  She just
nodded and said weakly "yeah just...a big lunch today, you know?".  Her
mother frowned at that, but dropped the subject, she'd seen her little girl
in enough of her moods to know it would pass in a couple days.  Still...she
hoped everything was okay.  It wasn't natural for a girl her age to be that
pale, that quiet, or that lonely, no matter her best efforts as a mother to
help her meet people.  She bit her lip and excused Sancia early from
dinner, taking her half eaten food for herself.  It would have been
unthinkable to waste it.

   Sancia found herself stripping down even as she locked her door.  She
hadn't realized how horny she was until halfway up the stairs, but by the
time she'd slid her jeans off and wriggled out of her t-shirt her nipples
felt like aching pebbles.  Her bra and panties hit the floor seconds later
as she crawled onto the bed, heavy breasts swinging as she flipped the
computer open again, clicking open a private window and logging into
her...other Tumblr account.  The one she'd never show anyone.

   One hand was between her thighs even as she began to scroll down the
page, rubbing along her clumsily shaven slit, marked by a couple of tiny
pale scars where she'd cut herself the other day.  She fought back a groan
at a gif of a woman hanging from a tree by one ankle, tied to the ground by
the other, while someone out of frame landed a flogger against her splayed
slit, hard enough to set her shaking.  She grabbed her pillow, shoving it
between her thighs and rolling onto her belly as she carefully muted the
volume.

   The evening was blurry and indistinct.  The girl ground and humped at
her pillow for what must have been hours, soaking it in her juice, as she
clicked from blog to blog.  A woman taking two cocks in her ass.  What
looked like two twins making out on the floor, in identical hogties.  Her
mother tried knocking on her door once to check on her, and the miserable
teen just yelled at her to go away.  A bald slave, her head completely
smooth, with a ring through her nose, a thick cock gag down her throat and
a miserable expression on her face.  Sancia found herself speeding up and
slowing down and groaning in frustration as she could feel herself
approaching the edge of...something.  The edge of cumming.  The edge of
orgasm.  Something she knew she had never managed.  Finally she panted
heavily and rolled back over onto her side, exhausted and miserable, the
scent of her arousal thick in the air...she'd have to sneak this pillowcase
into the laundry too.  She glanced at the clock and realized that she was
far overdue to start her homework.  She also realized she didn't care.  She
pulled the sheet up over herself, shaking slightly, and fell asleep
watching videos.

   (Chapter 2:
http://www1.asstr.org/files/Authors/Goddess_Agony/Sancia_and_Claire/Sancia%
20and%20Claire%20Chapter%202.txt?nocache=vfuodtqSQmtbvGIEsHDh)